Witches of the Underground

By D. A. Gilbert

1863 knew change through war and epic battles to decide the course of a nation divided. Abraham Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation in January of that year gave cause for a network of people to help escaping slaves find freedom north of the Mason-Dixon line.

During this era, two deities of northern Nigeria tricked onto a slave ship by a jealous peer and bound together through chaos magic, emerge on a plantation in Virginia. Their own magic proves useful against slave handlers and the hunters of the people that they travel with to freedom.

Within the hollows along the Mason-Dixon line where folklore and witchcraft are hidden from society, a hag of Mayan descent protects a portal entwining passageways to mythical realms. She has imprisoned the demi-god that the deities seek within the centuries old ruins of a stone foundation.

As the battle of Gettysburg causes an upheaval across the countryside, the hag's hollow is compromised by war and by those breaching the portal she protects. A local farmgirl versed in folklore experiences bizarre happenings, and becomes entangled in an epic showdown between battling armies, witchcraft and a struggle with who or what she is in her war-torn Pennsylvania farming community.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9798890613929

Book preview

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About the Author

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Witches of the Underground

D. A. Gilbert

Copyright © 2024 D.A. Gilbert

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2024

ISBN 979-8-89061-391-2 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89061-392-9 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my lovely daughter, Catrina Rae, and her bewitching charm. And special thanks to the talented artist Steven Freeman for a fourth book cover.

1

Pennsylvania

1856

Thomas Barnett climbed onto the roof of his house to seal a leak between downpours as darker, more formidable-looking clouds bore down on the farm.

Be careful, Thomas, his wife, Dede, warned from the bottom of the ladder.

He waved over his shoulder without looking—a common acknowledgment to her helpful nagging. He left the last rung of the ladder, carefully stepping onto the wet roof.

After disappearing from her view, what remained were ominous clouds. Lightning streaked across them, and an unusually loud crack of thunder made Dede jump. She stepped back to give Thomas another warning, but all she saw was the peak of the house.

Maybe he is on the other side, where it leaks into our bedroom, she thought. Circling the house to check, she saw him lying motionless on the ground.

Thomas! Dear God, she shouted as she ran. Dropping to her knees beside him, she knew he was dead. Tears filled her eyes. She embraced him. Rocking back and forth, she shouted, Why?

Rumbling thunder was the answer as the rain became torrential. Dede dragged Thomas's heavy body through the mud. It took all she had to get him up the steps and into the house.

She plopped down next to him just inside the door. Soaked and exhausted, she stared blankly at the water dripping through the ceiling into the living room bucket. She agonized about it every time it rained, but this time was different. Thomas could wave it off no longer. When he became frustrated, he would often say, Your nagging will be the death of me. Dede never believed his banter would become the premonition it was today. She laid her head on his chest and fell asleep.

When the sun came up, she rode their horse into Chambersburg to fetch help. It was so hot, the mortician and his men wanted to bury the body that very day. They brought along a pine-box coffin on a wagon and put Thomas in it. Dede cried over him the entire time the men dug a grave within the family plot next to his mother and father.

There was no family in attendance. His siblings were in Ohio. Only Roy, his closest friend, was there to help. He stayed around after the burial, drinking coffee and talking about short lives. He made promises to help around the farm and fixed the leaky roof right away.

It was a week before Dede's family learned of the tragedy that befell Thomas. Her only daughter, Ellie, and two granddaughters learned about it while leaving church. Ellie pretended that having the subject of her mother be part of church gossip didn't hurt.

Thomas was Dede's second husband. The first ran off when Ellie was nine years old. Ellie grew up, married at seventeen, and soon after, learned that her father died during a Texas cattle drive. It had been long forgotten until she heard it whispered from the lips of women around her.

She hadn't visited her mother but twice since Somma had been born. Dede stayed with them for a month then. It was a far happier month with a newborn than it would be helping her through the loss of Thomas.

Carrie's excitement for a visit with their grandmother was evident. Despite the tragic reason behind the need, Somma was full of questions. Carrie conveyed vague memories of Grandma's house during the ride home from church.

Imagining her mother alone and helpless became overwhelming by the fourth mile. Tears were spilling from Ellie's powder-blue eyes long before they arrived home. When she saw her husband, she jumped off the wagon and rushed into his arms. He held her close as she relayed the news.

Thomas fell off the roof and died. I'm taking the girls and staying with my mother for a month or so, Charles.

It's a busy time around here, Ellie, but I'll manage, he assured her.

He was her strength. Strong hands and a gentle heart. Steady, patient, and understanding at thirty-six years of age.

*****

Upon reaching Dede's farm, they found a disheveled old woman carrying the same sentiment about Thomas as Ellie held for Charles. After the initial joy of greeting them fell away, the smile left Dede's face. Her cheeks began to tremble, and she burst into tears.

He was my strength, Ellie. Now I'm a weak old woman alone on this farm.

When they hugged, the tears drenched Ellie's shoulder.

I know it hurts, Mama. Me and the girls will stay with you awhile, Ellie promised the once familiar stranger.

Dede wiped tears and gathered herself when she realized she was being watched by her granddaughters. You girls are so lovely. Somma, you have grown so much since the last time I saw you. And, Carrie, you are getting so tall. It's a shame Thomas isn't around to make a big fuss. Come into the house, and I'll show you where you will sleep.

Somma looked to the barn and saw Thomas where he often sat between chores. She followed everyone onto the porch and looked again. It was to an empty chair.

Three weeks passed with nostalgic conversations much of the time. There were only so many to speak of before Ellie began feeling distant and lonely. She missed Charles. When they ran out of pleasant things to talk about, Ellie's mind couldn't escape long-forgotten childhood memories. She beat herself up plenty over the desperate childhood absent her father.

Beyond the fulfilment of daughterly obligations, watching the girls with her mother was pure delight. Keeping up with Somma at nearly five years old would be difficult for a healthy woman. Ellie was slow after getting kicked in the head by a horse while pregnant. She hadn't realized she was pregnant when it happened.

A week after the incident, she opened her eyes to find a Black woman tending to her needs. She had been recommended by the doctor until Ellie was back on her feet. Four months passed before she could walk without falling into things. By then, she knew a second child was on the way.

On a sweltering summer day on July 9, 1851, Somma arrived, screaming with life. She was a true blessing after an incident from which Ellie never fully recovered. She still had occasional bouts of confusion. They didn't affect her judgment about knowing when it was time to go home. Dede was stronger. It was time.

When she and Carrie left, Somma spent the remainder of the summer there. She met the friends who stopped by to comfort her grandmother. On occasion after dark, beneath summer moons, ladies (mostly unmarried) would gather by the firepit to sing, talk, and chant words from a weathered book. It was exciting for a young girl—a secret bond between Somma and her grandma.

Spending the summers with Dede became a common occurrence. At eight years old, Somma was riding Thomas's horse around the farm and had ridden into a gnarled hollow. She came upon a beautiful woman, around her mother's age, sitting on a rock near a stream.

Who might you be? the woman asked. She was dark for a White woman or light for a Black one.

Somma Currant, she answered without fear. There was only curiosity about why a woman would be in the woods near her grandma's farm.

Well, Ms. Somma, that sure is a big horse for a child to be riding by herself, the woman said, standing to pet him.

It was Thomas's horse, until he died. No one ever rides him except me.

I see. My name is Leu Burgess. I live just over that hill. If you ever want a cookie, just drop by. I made some yesterday.

I do like cookies, Somma said, the embodiment of innocence.

Leu laughed. I don't know any children disliking cookies.

Do you have children? A daughter that I could play with maybe?

Leu stopped stroking the horse's nose and said, Unfortunately, I have no children of my own.

Somma was disappointed. The one thing missing when visiting her grandmother was children to play with. There was only a deaf old dog on its last leg that couldn't be bothered and many chickens.

Somma. Somma, where are you, girl? Dede was calling.

Leu let go of the horse's halter and stepped back.

I best be going now. It must be suppertime.

I'll see you around, Ms. Somma. Remember, if you want to talk or care for a cookie, just follow the path over that hill to my home.

Yes, ma'am. Have a good evening, Ms. Burgess, Somma said, turning the horse. After thirty yards or so, she looked back on an empty hollow.

Later that evening, Somma climbed into bed after praying. Dede tucked her in and gave her a peck on the forehead.

Grandma, did you ever meet Ms. Burgess? She lives through the hollow and over the next hill.

I can't say that I have. Why do you ask?

I met her in the hollow. She seems nice.

A woman in the hollow…oh my, Dede answered to what she thought was a tall tale. She wasn't the most active lady around, but she and Thomas had been in the hollow, picking berries. It was quite gnarly and overgrown—not a place for a woman to be.

She is a pretty lady with brown hair and green eyes.

If you saw a woman, Somma, I believe you, Dede answered with doubt. Good night. Sleep tight.

Don't let the bedbugs bite, Somma finished. Good night, Grandma, she said before turning toward the open window.

Filling Dede's mind were the faces of friends. She doubted it was any of them in the hollow as she outened the lamp next to her bed.

The next morning, Somma went to the barn to gather eggs. Of all the chores assigned her, egg gathering was her favorite. Chickens and eggs had meaning beyond what most folks knew. Her grandmother taught her folklore about them as well as herbs, spices, and salt.

Somma casually acknowledged Thomas as she passed his chair. She stopped walking as his presence rushed over her. She looked again. Just an empty chair, she thought, sniffing air that smelled like tobacco smoke.

After gathering the eggs, she eyed the empty chair. She left the barn and looked back suspiciously at a sound. A faint swirl of smoke around the chair rose upward to the hex sign hanging on the barn. Roy hung it there when he visited.

She and Dede painted it together with chicken blood mixed into the paint. It seemed unusual, but Somma played along, happy to paint with or without chicken blood.

Dede was sweeping the porch with a tattered straw broom when Somma reached her. She said, Six eggs this morning, Grandma. Same as yesterday.

Can't complain about that. Any more would be too many, Dede answered without looking.

I saw blackberries in the hollow. Maybe I can pick some to make a pie, Somma said. She set the egg basket down and picked up the rug to hang on a rope at the end of the porch.

Dede watched her do it and said, Thanks, Somma. A blackberry pie sounds wonderful.

Somma took the eggs into the house. Dede walked to the rug and beat it with the broom. Dust was flying around as an approaching carriage caught her attention. It rounded the barn with her friend Pearl at the reins.

Pearl was a free Black woman living on land that belonged to a preacher and his wife. Somma knew it was her by the shrill voice addressing her grandmother.

Dede, you could be my savior this day. I've been stung by bees, Pearl said, climbing down from the carriage.

I have something for that, Dede said, setting aside her broom. Come up here and sit.

Pearl waddled up the steps. She was thick from the waist down.

Somma came to the doorway and said, Hello, Ms. Pearl. I brought you some water.

Somma, I forgot you were here. That is kind, she praised while taking the cup of water. I guess you will be leaving soon with the summer nearly gone.

Yes, ma'am.

You'll be here over a month yet, Somma, Dede said. Don't you rush summer out of here, Pearl. I enjoy this weather. Evaluating Pearl's lower legs, Dede said, They got you good. She went into the house for a remedy.

Getting bored around here, Somma? Pearl asked, twisting the ring on her finger.

Somma shook her head. She noticed the ring was a silver skull with a ruby that seemed to represent a brain.

Pearl smiled and said, The Duchess gifted this ring to me. Do you know who she is?

No, ma'am, Somma answered. She was curious.

Dede came from the house stirring something in a mortar with a pestle. Weren't you going to get blackberries from the hollow, Somma? she asked.

Best get them before it gets hot, Pearl recommended. She lifted her dress for Dede.

Somma knew when she was supposed to leave grown-ups alone. I need a basket for them, she said, going into the house. When she returned, Dede was dotting Pearl's legs with the pink ointment from the pestle.

I hope you feel better soon, Ms. Pearl, Somma said from the yard.

If I'm not here when you get back, child, I'll see you before you take summer away from your grandma. There is a full moon coming. We can have a gathering so you don't miss out.

Yes, Ms. Pearl, Somma answered. As she walked toward the hollow, the thought of going home was pleasant. It wasn't the tedium of spending months with her grandmother; she just missed her father.

The portion of yard bordering the woods was tall grass and briars. Bedded deer bolted from their hiding place and dropped into the hollow. Somma followed the worn path they used and found an abundance of berries glistening in the sun. In a short time, the basket was filling up. She dropped farther into the hollow where she had seen so many berries the day before.

A glimpse of red moving through the trees had her stretching her neck. She soon realized it was Ms. Burgess in a red dress, walking uphill along a fallen tree. She disappeared near the top.

Somma went back to picking berries and quickly had a full basket. There were enough berries around her to fill the basket a second time, and she held great curiosity for Ms. Burgess.

Somma walked to where she saw her last. It took time to work through the tangles on foot and reach the dead tree on the opposite side of the hollow. The path split above it. One path followed the edge of the hollow while another went straight over the top.

Somma crested the hill and came to the skull of a bull at the base of a flat rock that was clean of debris. Dried flowers tied on poles surrounded the rock. It had a ten-foot circumference with a wooden bowl in the middle that drew her to it. Before looking into the bowl, a rustling sound off to the side distracted her. Something big, mostly shrouded by trees, had her trying to identify it.

A crow took flight from the branches above, cawing loudly. Startled, Somma flinched and tipped the bowl over with her foot. Blood spilled and revealed a soaked chicken head.

Panicking, she backed off the rock. Surely the something knows I am here!

She turned to run and heard a woman say, Somma?

She was thankful to see Leu Burgess on the trail. I'm sorry, Ms. Burgess. A crow frightened me, and I'm afraid I knocked over your bowl.

Leu looked suspiciously from Somma to the bowl. It's an offering to the goddess of the forest, she said, moving closer.

I never saw a goddess, Somma mentioned, looking to where something had been. It was more of a beast than a goddess.

Are those blackberries in your basket? Leu asked.

Yes, ma'am. I saw you in the hollow while I was picking them and thought you might want some. Somma looked to where the beast had been.

That's kind of you. I'd love some berries. But could we leave a few for the goddess of the forest? she asked, plucking a dainty handful. She popped one in her mouth and said, They are delicious.

She righted the bowl, filled it with berries, and arranged the chicken head with the path of the sun. The spilled blood filled etched lines forming the distinct shape of a star in front of the bowl. The chicken head was in its center.

Leu stopped worrying about what Somma thought and said, Bring the berries. I live at the bottom of the hill. You're in luck. I have plenty of cookies too.

I still have time. My grandmother is mending her friend Pearl. She was stung by bees.

I met Pearl at the market years ago in Mercersburg. Well, ‘Little Africa' is what they call that area. Pearl was there often, long ago. You say she is a friend of your grandmother?

Yes. She sometimes comes for gatherings during the full moon. I've stayed with my grandmother every summer since Thomas fell off the roof and died.

Leu led the way downhill to an enclosure containing goats. A ram approached the fence with a lofty trot.

Wow, Somma said, impressed by its spirit.

Beyond the enclosure was a flock of black chickens and a huge red rooster that eyed her as they passed. Several buildings dotted the landscape. A cow stood next to one of them.

The scarecrow in the garden was scarier than most. Beyond him, a lengthy field of flowers ran most of the way to the house.

When you return to your grandmother, be sure to take some flowers.

I think she would like that. You sure have enough of them, Somma mentioned.

They rounded the corner of the flower field into the yard. The fragrance of roses filled the air, and a black cat that was watching them cross the yard to the porch looked intimidatingly attentive.

That's Edison. He isn't very friendly, Leu warned.

Somma believed it. She pulled from his gaze to notice dried herbs hanging from a line at the end of the porch. On Leu's front door were symbols painted in blue and red. Somma studied the red symbol, which was similar to the one she helped paint with chicken blood on the hex sign. There were distinct differences.

Let's put the berries in the sink, Leu said, leading the way inside.

Somma saw an aged portrait of a distinguished man alongside a smiling woman wearing a hat. The fragrance of fresh flowers wafted through the shadowy house.

In the kitchen was the strong smell of spice in many jars. Somma placed the blackberries into a colander, and Leu rinsed debris from them. Somma noticed colorful stones lying on a table. Various blue ones, some black ones, and several shades of green and gray. These are some pretty stones.

Do you think? I make jewelry with them. It's slag castoff from iron works, Leu said, going through the dining room.

Somma followed her into a bright room where various tools were lying on a workbench next to more slag. There were necklaces hanging on a hook and rings hanging on a string stretched between two nails. Earrings lay in a row along the wall.

You really do make beautiful jewelry, Ms. Burgess, Somma said, looking closer at its detail.

Leu opened a box of her most sacred collection and chose a necklace. She held it up next to Somma's eyes. A near perfect match, she said.

She pulled Somma to a mirror in the room and stood behind her. Somma flipped her hair to the side and tried understanding the words Leu was mouthing in her reflection. She put the necklace around Somma's neck. Do you see?

It's lovely, Somma acknowledged.

It's yours.

Are you sure? Somma asked.

It's a fair trade for blackberries. Especially if we are friends. You should start calling me Leu instead of Ms. Burgess—if we are friends?

Thank you for the necklace, Ms. Leu. I'd say we are friends, Somma answered with youthful enthusiasm.

Good, Leu happily cooed. Would you like some tea and cookies?

I should get back to picking berries. My grandma will wonder where I am before long, Somma answered. She noticed her new friend's eyes matched the green stones on the workbench and several necklaces around her neck. Her full lips looked like they had dark red lipstick on them, although they did not.

I'll give you a cookie for later if you'd like. I'll also help you gather flowers to take home.

Thanks, Somma said. She took a napkin-wrapped cookie and put it in the pocket of her dress.

They crossed the room and went outside. Clippers for the flowers hung on a porch post near Edison. Leu collected them, went over to the flowers, and said, Pick your poison. I'll hold your basket.

Somma focused on the phrase while walking a wide path lined with roses to a stone table with oak planks resting on rocks for benches. There were flowers everywhere. Somma was drawn to the colorful gladiolas.

An excellent choice, Leu said.

Somma clipped multiple colors and arranged a bouquet in her hand. Satisfied, she handed Leu the clippers. My grandma will love these, Somma said, carefully placing them into the basket. She smiled and said, Thank you.

I will walk with you to the hollow, Leu said. She adored the childlike fascination and wished she had a child of her own.

She led Somma through the flowers past a trough of water. Bunched herbs hung from wooden poles like the flowers hung at the altar on the hill. Plates were on a second table with long benches. It seemed like people ate there not so long ago.

Leu said, On occasion, I also have gatherings.

Somma saw a homemade sundial and rushed toward it. While looking back, she asked, During the full moon? She walked into a thorny rose branch that tore into her neck and shoulder.

Ouch, she squealed, dropping the basket of flowers.

Leu rushed to untangle her. Sit over here, she said, guiding Somma to one of the benches. She pulled thorns from her neck. Blood trickled from the deepest wounds.

I need to watch where I'm going, Somma said, trying to seem brave. She wanted to cry.

Leu dabbed the blood away with a handkerchief. When the bleeding stopped, she picked up the basket and said, If you want more flowers to fix your bouquet, don't hesitate.

Somma rearranged the flowers she had and said, They still look good.

Out of the flowers and past the goats, Somma looked back from a plateau where the path turned. You really do have a beautiful farm, Ms. Leu.

Thanks, Somma. You are welcome anytime.

The sound of rustling branches gave them pause. Somma caught a glimpse of something fleeting away. What do you think that was? she emphatically whispered.

Deer maybe. There was a bear back here last year, but I haven't seen it lately.

Maybe it's the goddess of the forest? Somma said with wide eyes.

Maybe it is her. Leu laughed and led the way uphill to her altar. The bowl was on its side, the chicken head and blackberries gone. There were partial paw prints in the blood.

I don't think the goddess ate the berries. Looks like an animal did, Somma said, swallowing hard.

Crows sat in the branches above the altar. They turned on point as the humans crested the hill.

Where the path split, Leu said, You can find your way from here, can't you?

Yes, ma'am. Thanks for the flowers and necklace, Somma said, looking around warily.

"You are welcome. Thank you for the berries. It was a pleasure seeing you today." Leu watched Somma drop into the hollow, a child on a breeze.

It took Somma ten minutes to reach the place where the blackberries grew. She began filling her basket a second time. It was half full before she moved uphill to the heavily laden bushes near the top.

*****

Back at the altar, Leutogi, great-granddaughter of a Polynesian princess, took the heads of several gladiolas from the pocket of her dress and used the shears to snip them into the offering bowl that had been licked clean of blood and blackberries. She unfolded the handkerchief that held the dried blood from Somma's wounds and laid it on the rock. She pulled a vial of black salt from her dress and poured it onto the handkerchief, whispering an incantation.

*****

Something moving through the tangles of the hollow made Somma pause. A large animal was sniffing the ground where she previously stood. It had smooth gray skin—no way it was a deer. Her escape uphill was clogged with briars.

Whatever lifted its head had a black nose and short ears. A lion or large dog profusely sniffed the air and turned its focus on her. It was so large, twenty yards close, and it was staring into her eyes.

She was ready to bolt up the hill, worried she'd never make it. Its ears twitched before it turned and slinked silently into the underbrush.

The basket shook in her hands. Deeming it was plenty full of berries, she laid the flowers on top and snuck uphill. Something at the top crashed through the tall grass and made her squeal.

Her grandmother saw her running across the yard and said, I was just coming to find you.

Somma was out of breath and looked nervous. She glanced back and kept walking.

I had no idea you'd be gone so long. You look like you saw a ghost, Dede said.

There were deer in the yard that bolted right at me, answered Somma, thankful it wasn't the other animal. She took a deep breath and said, I brought flowers and a basket of berries.

Put the berries in the sink while I put the flowers in a vase. They are lovely, Dede said, taking them from Somma's hand. How did your neck get scratched up?

I walked into thorns, Somma said from the sink.

After the berries were washed and the flowers were in a vase, Dede said, Let me look at your wounds. They were in better condition than she first thought. Where did you get that necklace? she asked, admiring the shiny glasslike blue stone. It matched her granddaughter's eyes perfectly.

It is a gift from the woman in the hollow. Ms. Burgess makes jewelry and has a lot of flowers, Somma revealed.

I thought you were making it up about a woman in the hollow. I haven't been back there much, Dede confessed, dabbing at Somma's neck with a wet rag. I was married to Thomas for nine years before his accident. He was a loner, so we kept to ourselves. This ground belonged to his family. If not for Pearl and her friends, I would be a stranger around here.

You know some of the people at church. Why don't you go more often?

Ah, I share the same thoughts about them folks as your daddy does, Somma. They must all have pristine, perfect lives—talking about folks, judging them without any retribution, Dede said.

What is retribution? Somma asked.

Never mind. Just the rambling of an old woman.

After supper, they agreed to make the pie in the morning. While Dede cleaned up the kitchen, Somma went to her bedroom and played with porcelain dolls. She served them imaginary tea and remembered the cookie in the pocket of her dress. She served it on tiny plates to the dolls and ate the rest. It was delicious—a strong ginger flavor with a hint of maple syrup or something that stimulated her taste buds. She pretended her dolls ate the crumbs she consumed from their plates.

Dede was at the table sewing the edge of one of Somma's dresses by lamplight. The smell of gladiolas was strong, and the light catching them distracted her as she rocked. Finishing the last stitches, she didn't notice that which watched through the window. When the feeling of being watched became more than a second thought, she looked and saw something move away.

Fear rushed through her as she got up to check. From her side of the windowpane, Dede could see the entire barnyard illuminated by moonlight. Nothing moved. It took a moment to convince herself that it was